


The Slap-Crackle-Pop Job

by vanillafluffy



Category: Leverage, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: 2016 US Presidential Election, Election Results, Fix-It, Gen, The Ultimate Fix-It, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8520622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: The theme du jour was crossovers, the prompt was "Leverage/reality, the team, destroying Trump before the election."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



> Naming no names. Do I have to?

They all traipse back into The Lair. The rally they'd tried to steal, for a widely loathed candidate running on a platform of egotism and fast-talking, had ended with the man being struck by lightning. Sophie is pale and blinking more than usual, and Nate wears a thousand-yard state. Hardison is preening. Parker, still wearing the short skirt and off-the-shoulder blouse, has been giggling all the way home. Elliott is zen, as usual--today it's a particularly blissed-out zen. 

"I need a drink," Nate sighs, and pours out one for Sophie while he's at it. "We weren't supposed to _kill_ him."

"The guy was bad news, Nate," Elliott tells him. "It was the only way."

Hardison nods. "Elliott's right. Overriding his media board wouldn't have done much, no matter how much we screwed with the feed. Look at the kind of trash he's been talking for months--there was nothing too despicable for his supporters to cheer."

"So how the hell did you do it?" Nate asks, helping himself to another Scotch. "A lightning bolt?!"

"Nor as difficult as you might think," Hardison shrugs, but he's clearly eager to shine a spotlight on his genius. "While Sophie and Elliott were distracting his guards--" Sophie waylaid two of them with her wiles, while Elliott walloped the rest-- "Parker planted a little gizmo on him."

"So that wasn't a device to fool the soundboard into projecting our message?" Nate slams his glass down and glares at them. "In other words, I was the mark."

"Not really," Sophie says thoughtfully. "It was your basic plan, it's just that the device didn't do what you thought it would."

"You're defending them? Were you in on it, too?"

"No, but I've thought long and hard about whether I'd stay here if he came into power. Thank goodness I have dual citizenship!"

"Now you don't have to!" Parker beams at her. "We'd miss you."

Sophie smiles back at her. "You're really getting the hang of performing in heels," she praises the petite thief. "You knee-capped him very neatly."

"He grabbed my boob while I was planting the thingamajig on him." Parker's expression suggests she'd kill him again if it were possible. 

"He was limping when he got out on the stage," Nate recalls. "I suppose I should be glad you didn't throat-punch him." He finishes his drink and looks longingly toward the bar. 

"Admirable restraint," Sophie congratulates her. 

"When we did the sound check, I installed something to volatilize the amps. The receiver Parker planted channeled their energy when activated--voila, man-made lightning!"

Elliott has a beer in his hand and a grin on his face. "You have to admit, having him struck down by a bolt from the blue just when he was starting to talk about how God has rewarded him was pretty epic."

Nate finds himself nodding agreement. The others relax, sensing that he's come around. 

"That was pretty good," Parker admits, and giggles. "But my favorite part was when his hair caught fire...and melted."

...


End file.
